


Pop, Crackle, and Snap!

by cairistiona13



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anger, Angst and Humour, Canon Compliant, Comedy, Gen, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9413615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cairistiona13/pseuds/cairistiona13
Summary: Suho is always not taken seriously, but one day he snaps.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been three years, and I still maintain this isn't angst. It was supposed to be comedy.
> 
> But I guess I kind of see it...please don't cry.

There is a problem with being a member of a boyband who was known for being a long-term trainee, and that’s that everybody under SM, present and future trainees mostly, plus staff, knows who Kim Joonmyun is.

This may not sound like it’s a problem, but it is one, because everybody also knows how _kind_ and how _nice_ Kim Joonmyun is.

When you’re known for being kind and nice and you have a gentle face, nobody takes you seriously, and that’s the issue Joonmyun is currently having (read: “Kim Joonmyun is a pushover”).

Joonmyun doesn’t really know how to fix this, though it’s not for lack of trying.

 

“We’re going to be late,” Joonmyun calls out to the rest of his band members. Sehun isn’t even properly dressed; he has his t-shirt on backwards and his jeans are unbuckled. Baekhyun and Jongdae are trying to untie Chanyeol’s shoelaces without him noticing, Lu Han is trying to drag Minseok away after him before Joonmyun notices they’re missing and Kyungsoo has a bowl of rice porridge in his hands that he’s attempting to feed various members with. He has to kick Yixing and Zitao awake to dribble food into their mouths, and they both slide back to sleep instantly. He doesn’t even know where Jongin _is_.

“Guys,” Joonmyun says, almost pathetically, because he’s been at this for almost five minutes with no success. “We really have to go, or we’ll never be called back.”

Normally this is a threat that works well, but apparently this is not a normal day. This is a “Joonmyun is invisible” day. This is a “we don’t want to go anywhere because we’re lazy brats” day.

“ _Guys,_ ” Joonmyun says, and there’s now a lump in his throat, and that’s when Yifan steps in.

“Everyone,” he booms, “into the car. _Now_.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice. Everyone jerks upright and awake and they run, obediently, to the cars.

“Thanks,” Joonmyun says softly, but he’s not sure that Yifan hears him.

This is, sadly, not an uncommon event.

 

Later on, they are told about their fans misbehaving. Some were jaywalking in front of music show buildings and leaving messes there; rubbish strewn over the ground. There are even some incidences of fights breaking out among fans.

“They’re sleeping in front of the building,” a staff member tells Joonmyun and his manager. “It’s unsafe, someone will get hurt.”

“But they’re not listening to us,” another one says. “We were hoping you could talk to them. You’re their idol.”

Joonmyun knows from experience that idols talking to fans like these is never a good idea. He’s scolded the fans about hurting Lu Han and Jongin in the airport before, he’s scolded them about being sasaengs, as has Zitao, and they still do it. Talking to them seems to validate what they do, like they’re not infringing on their lives and space.

He also knows that it’s a copout, but it’s also unsafe to send an idol out alone. Unsafe and terrifying.

Even as he argues, his manager agrees that he will, and he’s bundled outside with a coat on.

“Everyone!” he begins, a little shakily in the cold, and one hundred sixteen year old girls scream his name and rush towards him.

He has no bodyguard because SM can’t afford them (read: SM are cheap), so the fangirls knock him over onto the floor. Someone grabs his hair, someone pinches his bum. It’s terribly unpleasant, and a bit scary, but the girls do nothing more. After they have their fill of unpleasant groping, they move away. Some girls fight over him, but none of them touch him. He gets to his feet and tries again.

“Everyone, I’m here on behalf of the staff. They want me to tell you not to sleep here, to go home, back to school. You can’t stay here. Come to see us later, but not overnight. And please use the lights to cross. You’ll get hurt if you don’t. I don’t want any of our fans to be hurt.”

But nobody seems to care about what he’s saying. He may as well be saying nothing, just moving his mouth. Girls are taking photos of him, recording him, but nobody is _listening_.

He gives a sigh and heads back inside. They scream and try to keep hold of him as he leaves, but he gently pulls himself out of as many hands as he can manage. His manager tugs him in and slams the door behind him.

“They didn’t listen to me,” Joonmyun tries.

“You should have tried harder,” his manager argues, but thankfully doesn’t send him back out again. Joonmyun never wants to do that ever, _ever_ again.

 

“Go to bed,” Joonmyun tries. They have a schedule where they need to be up at five in the morning and it’s past midnight. Joonmyun isn’t allowed to sleep until they’re all in bed and he’s exhausted.

“Just another five minutes,” Jongin argues. He and Sehun are in front of a games console in the sitting room. “We’re a few minutes from finishing this.”

“No,” Joonmyun says. “Come on, please. We’ve got to be up early.”

“We’ll be fine,” Sehun says. “Just a couple of moments, ’ma.”

“Yeah, Umma,” Jongin adds. Joonmyun sighs and makes a face. “We’ll be quick.”

“Okay,” Joonmyun sighs. “Five minutes, but no more.” He goes to sit on the sofa to watch them, but he’s so tired his eyes shut of their own accord.

When he wakes up, he’s still on the sofa, and he has a game controller in his hand and an angry manager standing over him.

“You’re late,” the manager snaps. “I thought you were better than to play stupid games when you should be sleeping, Joonmyun.”

“I didn’t play,” Joonmyun argues, but it’s futile.

Jongin and Sehun laugh behind their hands when Joonmyun turns towards them and threatens that they do all his chores for the week, but their manager catches him—typical.

“No, Joonmyun,” he says, as if talking to a young child. “You can’t make other people do your punishment. You need to own up.”

“But I didn’t even _do_ anything,” Joonmyun whines, completely exasperated. It doesn’t matter. He ends up doing twice as many chores as he should have.

“Hyung~,” Jongin crows, that evening, from where he’s sitting, playing his game, like he hasn’t had enough fun laughing at Joonmyun’s misery today. “You should buy us some meat tomorrow. To make up for this.”

Joonmyun wrenches the power cable out from behind the television in answer, but it turns out to be the phone line and doesn’t have the effect he’d wanted. Jongin and Sehun collapse into giggles and Joonmyun breaks the rules and goes to bed early.

 

Joonmyun is trying to book a practice room.

As an idol, you’d think the manager would do it, or that if he did it himself, because he’s an idol, it would be easy, but you would be wrong. Nobody ever wants to give Joonmyun a practice room.

Yifan never has any trouble. Jongin and Yixing never have any trouble. It’s just Joonmyun. Joonmyun wonders if he has “doormat” written over his forehead. Nobody ever wants to do anything for him. He always has to work extra hard at everything and he hates it.

“Come on, we’ve got to perform next week,” Joonmyun argues into the phone. “We need this space.”

“Sorry, we’re booked up,” the voice says. They’ve been giving him the run-around for hours now. He has to phone X, and X tells him to ring Y, and Y tells him to ring Z. Currently he’s speaking to F. F sounds an awful lot like an arrogant teenager. “You could come back later. Or phone—”

“I need to do this,” Joonmyun says. “Now.”

“Just a second—,” F says. Joonmyun wonders why nobody has names here.

F pulls away from the phone, and then Joonmyun hears—honest to God, hears—“This guy is an idiot, isn’t he? Can’t he tell when we’re messing with him?”

Another voice, one Joonmyun thinks might have been B from earlier, replies with, “He’s definitely got some screws loose. Keep going. I’ll make sure the room booking is done. Or maybe I should make them all booked up.”

“This is kind of fun, isn’t it? This guy is so pathetic, he has no idea—”

Joonmyun is furious. He’d had an idea they were messing with him, but he hadn’t realised they thought it was a game. That they’re messing with his head like this, and wasting his time, on purpose.

He hadn’t wanted to do it before, because he hates giving in, but he hates playing their game even more. He drops the phone into Yifan’s lap and heads back to his room.

 

It’s Music Bank and they’re waiting for the winner to be called—which they know is them already.

Joonmyun—Suho—always gives the first portion of the winning speech, and he has it written out. But today the members are still ignoring him. They hand the microphone first to Chanyeol, and then to Yifan, and Joonmyun flips.

It was always going to happen. Joonmyun has been too nice about this for a long, long time. It just should have been in a better place, a better time, than a little award ceremony, blasted live across multitudes of televisions.

He wrenches the microphone out of Yifan’s hand and launches into a tirade of words that will later be uploaded to Youtube under the name of “Joonmyun’s big prank”.

“Thank you so much for this award! Firstly, I would like to thank my members for being a waste of my time, for never listening to me, for being late in the mornings, for getting me into trouble for things they did, and for always being full of their own self-importance and laziness. Secondly, I would like to thank the fans, who stalk us at horrible times of day, drive us mad and almost get us into dangerous accidents. Thank you for being there when I open my eyes in the morning and when I’m having a shower and thank you for hitting my members when I can’t and for shoving each other into the middle of the street and getting yourself banned from watching us, and thank you so much for being the “best””—Here he uses air quotes and rolls his eyes—“fans since Cassiopeia. Thank you to my manager who tells me everything is my fault and thank you to the trainees for making up rumours about how pathetic I am and for giving me this most ridiculous run-around whenever I try to book a practice room, because apparently I have to book the practice rooms. I debuted in EXO, so you can shut up. Thank you to SM for scouting me when all I wanted was to be a teacher, and thank you so much to the world for making me “famous”.” He uses air quotes for a second time, to press the point further. “Thank you to my parents for being great people, you are the only people I like right now. I quit being a leader and I quit this. Thank you for being a great audience.”

He shoves the microphone into Jongin’s hands, Jongin who is staring opened-mouthed at him, and turns and marches offstage. The stage hands, just waiting in the wings, are gaping at him and his manager is wide-eyed with utter horror. Joonmyun tries to shove past them and then hears the most awful thing he’s ever heard.

He hears applause and cheers.

“Suho-sshi is practising his acting skills,” someone says.

“Where are the hidden cameras?” someone else asks. “I think we’ve all been pranked!”

Joonmyun doesn’t care who it is, he just wants to scream.

“For _fuck’s sake_ ,” Joonmyun swears, loudly, after he’s sure his microphone is turned off. Everyone winces or looks at him crossly, but he ignores them. “I can’t ever fucking win.”


End file.
